Sunday, October 14, 2012

A Vibrant, Vivacious "Venus"

"Venus in Fur" -- Hartford TheaterWorks -- Thru Nov. 11

David Christopher Wells and Liv Rooth. Photo by Lanny Nagler

In 1697, William Congreve penned
these lines: "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned/Nor hell a
fury like a woman scorned." Seems like nothing has changed in over three
centuries, at least based on what is going on up at Hartford TheaterWorks,
where a Woman (yes, it’s capitalized) takes a young playwright in hand and
teaches him some lessons about the proper way to write a role for a woman and
cast an actress in a play.

It’s TheaterWorks 27th year,
and its opening offering is a production of David Ives’ “Venus in Fur,” which
garnered rave reviews from critics during its Broadway run. Nina Arianda won a
Tony in 2011 for her portrayal of Vanda; her understudy was Liv Rooth, who has
taken on the Vanda role for the TheaterWorks production. No-brainer casting,
for from the moment she “Knock-Knock-Knocks” on the door of the rather low-rent
room where Thomas (David Christopher Wells) has been casting actresses for the
role of Vanda, she transfixes the audience.

Thomas has adapted Leopold von
Sacher-Masoch’s 1870 novella, “Venus in Furs,” for the stage, in the process
capturing what he believes is a true love story about two people who have
transformed themselves to better allow them to embrace true passion, which can
be found only through domination. He’s also directing the play, since other
directors he’s worked with just haven’t “gotten” what he’s written, but he has
a problem: all of the actresses he’s seen so far have been woefully inadequate because,
as he tells his fiancée over the phone at the start of the play, women today
are, themselves, inadequate; they whimper, they whine, they say “like” a lot
and are simply incapable of being feminine.

Liv Rooth and David Christopher Wells. Photo by Lanny Nagler

Enter Vanda, whose real name, she
tells Thomas, is Wanda, but her parents, for some reason, called her Vanda. So,
she believes, she’s perfect for the role, but she is everything Thomas has just
described to his fiancée, plus. She’s profane, she’s brash, she’s prone to
violent fits of temper, she’s decked herself out in dominatrix attire, and she seems
to be the dumbest blond on the block. In essence, she’s Thomas’s worst female
nightmare, so he tells her the casting call is over and attempts to send her on
her way, but Wanda/Vanda isn’t having any of it. She’s determined to read for
Thomas, and after telling him various tales of woe, giving him some tears and
donning a dress she’s bought for the occasion, he reluctantly acquiesces and
gives her a shot -- and in a wonderful, theatrical moment, Wanda/Vanda gives a
reading of the first three pages of the play that are dead on. Suddenly, Thomas
senses that, as counter-intuitive as it may seem, he may just have found his
Wanda. Little does he know just how right he is.

Throughout the rest of this one-act
play, Rooth easily, and delightfully, shifts back and forth between the brash,
trash-talking Wanda and the cerebral, cultured Vanda of Thomas’s play, with a
side trip as the goddess Venus channeled through Marlene Dietrich via Madeline
Kahn, until the final moments of the play, when she becomes something totally
different, a transformation accented by explosive lightning (also used in the opening scenes as a bit of
foreshadowing) compliments of lighting designer John Lasiter and sound designers
Vincent Olivieri and Beth Lake.

Director Rob Ruggiero obviously
understands both the playfulness and seriousness inherent in the play, as well
as the need to keep things moving, for Vanda and Thomas engage in a fast-paced
verbal and physical pas de deux with initial comic overtones that, ever so
slowly, turns into something else entirely. Save for the opening moments, when
Wells’ phone conversation is just a bit too studied, there’s not a false note
as tables are turned, roles are reversed, and the ever fascinating male-female
dynamic is placed under the microscope.

Wells has a tough task, given that
Rooth has most of the best lines and, as Wanda, is a manic presence, but
attention must be paid to his character’s transformation as well, for he must
underpin Rooth’s more dynamic turns; he is the ice upon which Rooth does her
arabesques, axels, spins and crossovers and without the ice the skater cannot
skate. To shift metaphors, Rooth gets to be the fire, but Wells must be the
containing, defining fireplace, for without his framing, his reactions, his
character’s slow yet inevitable metamorphosis, Rooth’s character has nothing to
play off of. Throughout most of the evening, playgoers’ eyes are on Rooth – how
can they help but not be – but it is Wells’ solid performance that – let’s
shift metaphors again -- is the stand that allows Rooth’s decorated Christmas
tree to dazzle.

Marketing and advertising for
“Venus in Fur” emphasizes the sado-masochistic aspects of the play – the
under-18 crowd is shut out -- but they are, in reality, minimal, not offensive,
and are certainly not the play’s main thrust (no pun intended). Anyone
considering not attending because he or she is just “not into that stuff”
should reconsider, for the play is really about human relationships, play
writing, directing, and the roles enforced on us based on society’s
gender-definitions.

So, if you go, (and you should, if
you’re interested in engaging, witty, thought-provoking theater) revel in
Rooth’s marvelous performance, but as you do, take note of how Wells’ “yang”
makes Rooth’s “yin” shine.

“Venus in Fur” runs through Nov. 11. For tickets or
more information, call 860-527-7838.